


Prodigal Son

by Rrrowr



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fallen Castiel, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-22
Updated: 2012-03-22
Packaged: 2017-11-02 09:09:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/367344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rrrowr/pseuds/Rrrowr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Castiel is a child prodigy violinist. (And probably also a fallen angel being called back into battle.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prodigal Son

They called Castiel a prodigy. Gifted with skills beyond his age — far, far beyond his age. Given any instrument at all, Castiel would merely have to see it demonstrated once to be able to use it proficiently. That fact alone had garnered him much attention in his youth, but his devotion belonged only to one. Cassandra, he called her — a beautiful violin with a considerable history. She was stained a vibrant, bloody red and the notes he pulled from her strings were some of the most haunting things he’d ever heard. He could pour himself into her, fold his body around her, cut his fingers upon her neck, and it would never be enough. Always, the music would simmer into the air long after he’d stopped playing and Castiel would be left aching with the need to begin again.

A slow clap from below the stage brought Castiel back to himself and he let Cassandra fall to his side as a man — stout, balding, sharply dressed in a black suit — approached the stage. He looked Castiel up and down and a small smile quirked at the corners of his mouth. “Castiel, is it?” he said. His voice was gravelly, purring almost. “You’re very good with that thing.”

Castiel edged backwards as the man’s smile sharpened, but his parents had raised him to be polite even when he didn’t like someone. So he said, “thank you,” and did his best to sound like he meant it.

The man nodded, waving it off. “It’s to be expected from a child of your talents, of course. It’s a shame that child prodigies have a strong tendency to burn out. You were no different, I imagine. Parents push their children too hard to early fame and then they become teenagers and suddenly it’s all about finding out who you are. Am I wrong?”

Castiel shifted uncomfortably. The man wasn’t wrong. He’d given up playing everything except the violin, refused to attend any concerts. His parents had given in eventually and now, left to his own devices, Castiel had only Cassandra’s possessing melody to keep him company.

“It’s not worth much playing to an empty music hall, though,” the man continued offhandedly as he turned to casually take in the vacant amphitheater. He let Castiel consider that as he then pulled himself onto the stage and dusted off the front of his suit. “What if ol’ Crowley here—” he tapped his breastbone with a finger, “—could get you playing that instrument in front of famous audiences all around the world?”

Crowley took a step toward Castiel, arm stretched out. Whipping his bow up between them, Castiel pressed it’s sharp point into Crowley’s belly to keep him from getting closer. Still smiling, Crowley backed off and threw up his hands appealingly. 

“Easy now, Cas,” he said. When Castiel remained tight-lipped, Crowley shrugged and reached into his coat for a folded piece of paper. “Well it was worth a shot for old time’s sake. Here.”

He held out the paper to Castiel, who took it and unfolded it with his thumb. _Winchester,_ it read and was followed shortly by a phone number and an address.

“I know this name,” Castiel said wonderingly, though he couldn’t be sure how this was true. He’d never heard the name before in his fifteen years of life.

“I should hope so,” Crowley grunted. “They’re old friends of yours. You’ll want to get in contact with them and soon.” He turned to make his exit, but looked back at the last moment. Castiel had set down both violin and bow to press out the creases in the slip of paper. Noticing that Crowley lingered, however, Castiel lifted his eyes again and frowned suspiciously.

“It’s good to see you again, Cas,” Crowley said fondly, inclining his head. “I hope you enjoyed your vacation.”


End file.
